


Khal Stark

by LoneDarkHuntress



Series: Dothraki Starks [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 04:48:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9532124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoneDarkHuntress/pseuds/LoneDarkHuntress
Summary: Part 1 in a series. Artos "The Implacable" Stark had twin boys. This is the story of the younger of the two, Benjen Stark, and how his family comes to play in the Game of Thrones. Part 1 takes place about 50 years before Robert's Rebellion.





	

Chapter 1  
227 AC

 

**Benjen Stark**

It had been a year since the battle at Long Lake, a year since my Uncle William had been beheaded in front of me and my father made Regent of the North until my cousin Edwyle, now Lord Edwyle, came of age. A year since my father acknowledge that I had survived the battle, despite the injuries I had received facing one of Raymun Redbeard’s sons, slaying him despite them.  
Were I once kept my dark hair chopped short, it was now long and hung in my face. I had grown used to it, learning to fight with it , proving to all the guards and even my twin that I wasn’t a cripple. As I was now, to the heir of Glover.  
“Come on scar face! Afraid I’ll hurt you?” Challenged Emrick Glover as he swings his sword at my face.  
I quickly blocked his swing with my sword and then kick at his left side, knocking him off balance. As he tried to regain his balance I snakes my sword around his and leverage on it till it pop from his grasp and flew, landing by Uncle Rodrik “The Wandering Wolf” Stark's feet as he walked into the training yard. Emrick, now on his ass with my sword at his throat, held up his hands in surrender.  
“I’m sorry, Benjen. It was only a jest.” Emrick pleaded.  
“Be careful of jests, Emrick. You never know if they will challenge you back, and next time you may not have someone as kind as me.” I tell him as I sheath my sword and walk to the water barrel. As I take I drink, I watch Emrick get to his feet and collect his sword from my uncle who had picked it up. They exchange a few words, that I cannot hear, then Emrick leaves headed for the Great Hall and my Uncle walks towards me.  
Uncle Rodrik had come home from Essos a little over 4 months ago, after word had finally reached him of his brother's death. He was quieter than my father, more reserved, but he had a deadly grace of one who knew how to fight, and fight he had these past 20 years with the Second Sons in numerous battles and skirmishes. Tonight was his wedding to Arya Flint of House Flint, who he met while escorting Edwyle through the mountain clans these past two months.  
“He wasn’t much a challenge for you was he, nephew?” asked Rodrik as he leaned against the rail next to the water barrel.  
“He’s a idiot, who thought he was good, since his father’s men never give him a true challenge. He needs to be fostered to someone who will so him humility.” I say, not looking at him.  
“That maybe true, but that is for Lord Glover to decided, especially since Emrick is his only son.”  
“Aye, but if he doesn’t learn soon, he’ll end up dead on someone’s blade.” I state. A comfortable silence feels the air as we both lean against the fence, watching the servants rush about preparing for tonight’s wedding feast.  
“Uncle, how old were you when you left?” I asked. The question had been weighing on my mind for some time, but my Uncle had always been busy.  
“I was ten and nine. Why do you ask, Benjen?”  
He was staring at me now I could feel it. “I was just curious, Uncle.” I said quietly.  
“Look at me, Benjen.” He commanded, in the same voice my father uses when he commands his troops.  
I looked at him, in the eyes, the thing I had been unable to do with most people since I could not stand the looks of pity in their eyes at my scarred face. The first thing I noticed wasn’t pity though, or sadness, it was respect.  
“When I left, I expected to come back sooner. “See the world” I told my father. Make a name for myself and come back, marry and pass on the Stark name. Little did I know it would be over twenty years before I felt the need to come back. I joined up with the Second Sons in Essos after they saved my ass from some slavers, I figured it give me experience and fame. Little did know they would become closer brothers to me than my own. When word of my father, Donnor, William's first wife and son's deaths came, instead of coming home, I fought harder, lost myself in it. After that I rarely heard from home. Just rumors and such. It was a rumor that brought the news of William and the battle of Long Lake. It was then I knew I was needed home. As if I was being pulled by the old gods. Yet when I arrived I was a stranger. Still am, yet I am respected by the Lords of the North, your cousin looks for my advice, and now I am going to marry a woman I love. Is that what you want? To be unknown to your family? To be forgotten?” he asked.  
“Since the battle, my father hasn’t spoken to me. My twin and cousins pities me every time he see my face. The guards and servants only acknowledge me when I call on them, same for all the Lord’s and ladies and the children, if they don’t move to avoid me in the first place. I’m tired of it uncle, I’m tired of being thought of as a cripple despite proving them otherwise.”  
“My stupid fucking family. You shouldn’t be ashamed of yourself. You should be proud you survived, that you were able to gain your strength and skill back despite everything.” With that he turned and walked off towards the keep.  
I watched him go, slightly stunned. After a moment I decided to go get ready for the wedding. Quietly with my head down I make my way to my room to gather up my good clothes then head to the bathhouse to scrub. An hour later I’m back in my room dressed in a black doublet with blue breeches and black knee high boots. I combed my hair out, and after my uncle’s statement decided to wear it tied back. I belted my sword on and made my way to the godswood just as the sun set and the horn was sounded.  
“What are you doing with your hair like that?” I heard a voice from behind me say, a voice I hadn’t heard spoken to me in over a year.  
Turning to face my father, I saw my Aunt Melantha put her hand to her mouth in a gasp as she sees my face truly for the first time. Behind them stand Lord Eddard Flint and his daughter, Arya. Stammering I say, “I was trying to look more presentable and for once proudly show my scars, father.”  
Reaching behind me he grasps the leather tie I had used and forcefully yanks it out, but I refuse to cry out. As my hair falls forward, covering my face he say, “ Cover your face your scaring everyone.” Then he grabs my aunt’s arm and walks off.  
Looking at the floor, trying to hide my embarrassment, as I attempt to move past the Flints, a hand on my arm stops me. Another hand touches my chin, lifting my head till I’m eye to eye with my soon to be aunt. “He wrong.” Was all she said, starring at me with the same respect my uncle gave me earlier.  
“Thank you, my lady.” I say as I step back and bow to her. Next thing I know she’s pulling my hair back and fixing the leather tie my father had thrown to the ground as her father stares on with a smile on his face. She then returns to her father’s side and they start heading to the godswood again. Turning back she smiles and says, “ Are you coming, Benjen?”  
For once I have hope.

As soon as the bedding ceremony takes place, I head to my room, done with the stares and whispering for the night. Making my way down the hall, I see a someone standing next to my door. Once I get closer, I see that it’s my father. My breath catches slightly, he had been angry ever since he noticed me during the wedding with my hair tied back again.  
“Father, is something wrong?” I asked. That’s when I notice the horse crop.  
“Is something wrong? You disobey me then ask if something is wrong?” he demands ask he hits me across the face with the crop. I stagger back from the blow, pain erupting across my face  
“I told you to hide your worthless cripple face from good decent people. But no you disobey me, just like you disobeyed your Uncle at the battle. You were supposed to stay at his side instead you thought only for yourself!” he yells striking at me again and again.  
The fourth time he moves to hit me I catch the crop in my hand and kick him in the stomach, sending him sprawling on the floor as guards and guest come to investigate the disturbance. “ Redbeard was engaging Uncle William and I was helping him when Redbeard’s son tried to come at us from the side. I turned to engage him on Uncle William's orders protecting us both. Redbeard’s son had just struck me across the face and was hitting me across my back with his claws knifes, when I saw Uncle William fall to Redbeard, I turned around and sliced Redbeard’s son across the stomach as he hit me in the face again. I was ready to die, but the old gods thought I still had a purpose. Apparently you do not.”  
With that I walked into my room and shut the door, barring it from entry, then sat on my bed and wept for the first time since I was a child

The next morning I awoke as the sun was rising and packed my saddle bags. I had decided during the night, that I was leaving, I was done. Putting on my traveling clothes I packed what few belongings I wish to take with me, strap on my sword belt and unbar my door. Glancing out the door, I see no one I the hall, so I shoulder my bag and make my way to the kitchens. I am nearly there unseen when I run into my cousin, Edwyle.  
He looks up and see me, at first he smiles, then he notices my face and appearance and frowns. “What’s going on, Cousin? What happened to your face?” he asks innocently.  
“Just going for a ride, Cousin.” I reply ignoring his other question.  
“Your lying, Benjen.” He says getting serious. For being only ten and three he was pretty good at reading people, just like Uncle William had been.  
“What is he lying about, Edwyle?” I hear Uncle Rodrik say from behind me. Shit I had hoped to get away before anyone awoken.  
He says he’s going for a ride, but he’s got a larger bag than he need for that, and he won’t tell me what happened to his face, Uncle.” Replies Edwyle.  
I feel a hand my shoulder pulling me around, sighing I turn and look my uncle in the eye. “its nothing, Uncle.” I say.  
“Both of you come with me.” He says. He turns and heads back towards his room. I follow him with my head down, Edwyle right behind me, knowing there’s no use in arguing. Outside his door he motions us to wait as he goes in. A few moments later he opens the door and motions us in. Aunt Arya is already up and dressed sitting at a desk. Looking up see frowns when she see my face.  
“Sit down you two.” Uncle Rodrik says morning towards the four chairs next to the fire. I pick the one closest to the door, Edwyle sits next to me. Aunt Arya takes the chair across from me, and Uncle Rodrik next to her. Aunt Arya looks angry.  
“Benjen, where did those bruises come from?” she demands.  
“I fell last night.” I lie. Despite my father doing this to me, I didn’t want to cause family problems.  
“ Then why are you leaving, nephew?” asked Uncle Rodrik.  
“I’m just going to go to take a trip to see my mother’s family in Karhold.” I lie. My twin was there and I had no care to see him.  
“Quit lying!” Edwyle shouted standing up.  
“Edwyle, calm yourself.” Uncle Rodrik told him.  
Then he look at me saying, “He is right, you need to quit lying now Benjen.”  
“ I’m sorry, Uncle. But I cannot stay any longer.” I finally say, looking him on the eyes.  
“What do you mean you cannot stay, Ben?” Edwyle asks.  
“I meant to be gone before the castle awoke, but I guess I failed. I’m going across the sea, to Essos. Away from here, away from the Kingdoms for a while. I am tired of having to hide, of having to feel ashamed of having survived. I need to go.” I say hoping they’ll understand as I hang my head again.  
“He said something else to you last night didn’t he? He's the one who struck you isn’t he?” demands Aunt Arya, fuming.  
“Who are you talking about, Arya?” askes Uncle Rodrik.  
“My father. For the first time in a year he spoke to me, right before your wedding, only to tell me to hide my face, because it was scaring everyone. Aunt Arya and her father were standing behind him.” I say.  
“That idiotic, stubborn brother of mine! No wonder the Lord’s have taken to calling him “The Implacable”. Nothing is ever good enough for him!” Uncle Rodrik jumped up shouting. It was the first time I ever seen him angry.  
“Rik.” Aunt Arya said as she reach and placed a hand on his arm, looking him in the eyes. Uncle Rodrik calmed down almost instantly. Sighing he sat back down and looked at me.  
“Is this truly what you want, nephew?” Uncle Rodrik asked.  
“Yes. Please understand, I would stay if only for you three, but I cannot.” I say quietly.  
“So you would leave me, too? Just like the rest of them?” Edwyle replies almost crying.  
“Ed, this the first time in months you have even spoken to me. And the first time since the battle you have even looked at me with pity.” I quietly say looking him in the eyes. He breaks away his glaze and mutters, “I sorry.”  
Uncle Rodrik gets up and goes to his desk, pulling the bell cord next to it, then began writing on a piece of parchment. A moment later, Joer, his manservant appears.  
“Joer, have our morning meal brought up here with enough for my Lord and Benjen. Then go down to the sables and see that Benjen's horse is saddled along with a pack horse. Pack him a enough travel rations and horse feed to get to White Harbor, also collect a tent and bed roll from storage for him.” Uncle Rodrik hands him the paper authorizing Joer to collect everything. Joer bows and leaves.  
“Do you have any armor?” Uncle Rodrik asks as he works on another letter.  
“No. Mine was ruined in the battle, and father would never meet with me so I could get him to authorize a new set.” I reply as Joer comes back with a camp table and servants loaded with food. I let Edwyle and Aunt Arya make their plates first, the fill me one up. Uncle finishes his letter and lets it dry while begins to eat as well. We comfortably silent as we break our fast and enjoy the rashers of bacon, fresh bread, and eggs, washing it all down with honey water.  
“ I understand why you want to leave, Ben. I just wish you did not have too.” Edwyle finally says as he finishes his meal.  
“I know, Ed. If you want I can write you of my adventures maybe. And maybe one day I’ll come back and see you with a family of your own.” I say.  
“I would like that. Before you leave though, please go to the armory and collect some basic armor that will fit you. I’ll deal with your father about it.” Edwyle says seriously. Sounding older than his ten and three years. With that he got up and left, leaving me with alone with our Uncle and Aunt.  
“You know you don’t have to go all the way to Essos. You could go spend time with my father’s people. He would welcome your presence.” Aunt Arya tells me as I watch Edwyle leave.  
“I need to be outside his reach. As long as he is Regent he controls the North, and would still control me. This is best.” I reply turning to look her in the eyes.  
“Ok, Benjen.” She says. She then gets up and goes to a nearby trunk and pulls out something. She returns and hands it too me. It’s a black surcoat with the grey direwolf of House Stark sewed onto the chest.  
“It might be a bit big, but I think it will fit you better than your Uncle.” She states smiling at me.  
“I don’t understand. You made this for Uncle Rodrik, why are you giving it to me?” I asked as Uncle Rodrik walks up next to her.  
Leaning into my uncle she says, “I honestly did know who I was making that for when I started, I just knew that I wanted to make it. I thought it was for Rodrik when he proposed, but now I know it’s for you.”  
“Take this as well. You will need it to get to Essos, and the letter is for Sir Alec Sand of the Second Sons. He will help you out when you get there.” Uncle Rodrik says as he hands me a sealed letter and a bag full of coins.  
“I cannot accept this.” I say as I try to hand everything back.  
My uncle stops me saying, “You can and will. No family of mine will leave here unprepared. Not while I can help it.”  
“ Thank you.” I finally say accepting they’re decision.  
“ Come, let’s get the last few things you need and see you off.” He says leading me out the door.

An hour later, I am mounting my buckskin stallion outfitted in grey ringmail with my new surcoat over it. My new shield and helm are strapped to my saddle along with my bow and quiver. I reach to gasp my uncle’s arm one last time, when I see Edwyle hurrying towards me, my father right behind him. Edwyle reaches up and hands me a ring. A signet ring with the Stark direwolf.  
“So that you do not have any excuse to write me, Ben.” He says smiling.  
“Thank you, my Lord.” I says since we’re in front of everyone now, as I put it on my left index finger. My father hangs back sending my a look of anger and disgust as I had tied my hair back.  
“I best be off.” I say gather up my reins and wave to the three people, who showed I still matter and ride out the gates of Winterfell, for what I did not know was the last time.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first posted fanfic, so reviews and messages are welcome. Also posted on FF.net under the same title.


End file.
